Tomorrow I go in to have my PICC line installed. I’m not afraid to admit that I’m a needle wuss, or that this transfers nicely to long plastic tubes that snake through my circulatory system. As silly as it may seem, I may be more worried about a stupid plastic tube than the chemotherapy.
The chemo starts Tuesday. I see the oncologist in the a.m. to be fitted with my porta-pump (complete with fanny-pack), and I carry that around for seven days. The following Tuesday I turn in the pump and I wait.
For the most part I think I’m ready. Although the chemo isn’t supposed to be too bad, I’ve got my script for Compazine. I’ve got my brand spankin’ new Logitech Harmony remote all set and ready to go. I’ve got a stack of books. And as always… I’ve got my trusty PowerBook.
I wish I could come up with something brilliant to say to you that would make this whole cancer thing go away. You know something like hey have you heard there’s a new treatment or I can grant you one wish… something like that. Instead, the well wishes of a total stranger are the best I can do. Hope all goes well on Tuesday.